


Let Me In

by lesbianneptune



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 01:26:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3631449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianneptune/pseuds/lesbianneptune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michiru Kaioh is a lonely teenager constantly plagued by visions of violence and an obsession with investigating the frequent local murders that occur within her town. When the inquisitive yet mysterious Haruka moves in next door, the two become unlikely friends. Haruka, however, may not be all that she seems. AU, heavily inspired by the film/book Let the Right One In.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Harumichi Tumblr Circle's January Same Prompt Fic Party. I'm a little late uploading here, but oh well. Content warnings for violence, blood, mentions of gore, and abusive relationships.

_Haruka doesn’t know how long she’s been screaming, but she is. It’s a perpetual stasis of fear and helplessness, and the prickle of sharp pain in her right side where she can feel the warmth of her own blood pool in the contours of her shirt and stain through. Somewhere in the back of her mind, panic strikes. The shirt is a gift, and Mama will be so angry when she sees. Haruka bats at the wound bravely, trying desperately to remember some semblance of first aid, but every movement is another thorn in her side, another dull ache in her brain, and soon everything is spinning again. There are hurried voices and the shadows falling on the wall next to her get gradually bigger. One of them, a woman, Haruka thinks, kneels to her level, and the girl gasps for air as the stench of death fills her nostrils. She kicks and screams as she is picked up roughly, a tight cradle in the arms of the stranger. A mouth is on her neck, warm and sharp, and there is blinding pain but it is only for a second. There are spitted whispers in her ear as she finally passes out. Her dreams are empty, but she is grateful for them._

_The first thing Haruka notices when she awakes is how the light is now blindingly painful to her._

—

“Today, students, we will be discussing matters that may be upsetting for some of you. It is important to know that, should you feel like you cannot cope, you may leave the room at any time. I will be in my office after school hours if you wish to talk to somebody confidentially about the tragedy that has taken place this past weekend.”

“Yes Miss Meioh.”

Michiru automatically added her voice to the chorus of students. Back rigid, eyes alert, every hair in it’s rightful place.

“Now then, does anybody here know anything about what happened in Azubu-Juuban this weekend?”

Michiru didn’t respond. She knew, of course. She knew everything, had been keeping up with the cases ever since they’d begun, but she’d sit and nod politely and pretend to be completely oblivious as the community officer stood in front of her slowly and painfully explained even the most basic details in excruciatingly simplistic language.

“The boy who was killed - and this may surprise you - was not much older than you are now.”

“ _He was the same age,”_ Michiru thought, “ _seventeen years old. He attended a school for the elite, very similar to this one. His primary interests were sport and mathematics. He was planning to go to university. His parents are devastated and are offering an extraordinary amount of money for any information on the killer.”_

A girl in the front row raised her hand and nervously asked how he was killed. Michiru frowned. The killer was quite clearly not the brightest of murderers out there. All of their victims had been found dead in the same district, all near the school, and all with the same bruising and scarring patterns across their necks and chests. Most had had their throats slit and blood drained, but the odd one had obviously gone wrong, leaving occasional signs of a struggle, sometimes forcing the killer to leave the body without their prize.

“He was attacked with a knife, stabbed through the heart.”

_That’s a lie._

“You shouldn’t worry too much however. All of the attacks appear to be by the same person-”

_Well done, you’ve finally got something right._

“-and whoever the killer is, they’ve remained in the same district up until now. That said, it is incredibly important to remain indoors wherever possible, and stay with others if you should need to leave the house. The headmistress and the governors board have been spoken to concerning this, and all after school clubs from now until further notice will be cancelled.”

There were hushed whispers across the room and Michiru felt her heart fall, wondering if sneaking into the music room was still an option whilst the school was under such close surveillance.

“Do any of you have any thoughts you wish to share? Did any of you know Chiba, or any of the other victims?”

_Yes._

“Michiru did,” Elsa called from the back row, “The Kaiohs know pretty much everybody.”

“This must be very upsetting for you. I’m terribly sorry.”

The sympathy in the officer’s voice grated intensely on Michiru’s nerve as she looked up coolly.

“I’ll be perfectly alright. He was an acquaintance. You should save your sympathy for the poor boys’ family.”

“In any case, I do think it best that you book an appointment with the guidance counsellor or Miss Meioh. It’s very important that you don’t let these things get on top of you. In fact, I’d be happy to accompany you after class.”

Michiru nodded and simpered her best faux smile, making sure to look slightly upset beneath the polite consideration. The officer seemed satisfied, and moved along the row to continue spinning his tale.

Michiru sighed.

It was going to be a long day.

—

The corner room on the fourth floor of Mugen Academy was something of a haven for any young, budding loner stuck in the cogs of public schooling. There was a piano, music stands, state of the art equipment for recording, playing, mixing, traditional instruments, electronic instruments – everything music aficionados could dream of and more, probably. Today, however, Michiru sat on the piano stool, running her thumb along her violin, with her schoolbag at her feet and her eyes closed. The room was beautifully silent and it wasn’t until she began to play that the tightness of the air and the stillness of the day’s struggles fell away, and she was falling into her typical semi-conscious state of playing and everything was calm and serene and exactly how it should be…until a loud knock on the door shattered everything.

“Michiru!!! What are you doing? If they find out you’re here, they’ll shit bricks.”

Michiru sighed.

Elsa.

Elsa was the only person at Mugen that Michiru actually cared to call a friend. Elsa was the only person in  _the entire world_  that Michiru actually cared to call a friend. She was a necessary thorn in her side, a girl too loud, too energetic and too blunt, but a sweet girl nonetheless, a permanent headache that had stuck with Michiru for years despite concentrated efforts to shake her off.

“Come in quickly, Elsa, please, I’m trying to practice,” Michiru said.

“Damn, I never took you for this much of a rebel Michi,” Elsa grinned as the door slammed shut behind her, “I mean, not that you’ve ever really paid attention to the rules, but I thought at least a real life killer might have pushed you into pissing off home for once.”

“They aren’t a threat,” Michiru replied simply, “they’ll probably be caught within the week.”

“How do you know? Have you been doing some of your weird research again? Please tell me you haven’t. It’s fuckin’ gross.”

“If the police didn’t keep lying I wouldn’t have to. Did you know, Chiba was never stabbed? None of them were. Their throats were slit, and their blood drained, like a harvesting.”

The sounds of Michiru’s violin filled the room again as Elsa choked on her reply.

“What the fuck!? You’re kidding, right. Tell me you’re kidding…Michiru. Stop playing that stupid violin and tell me you’re joking.”

The music stopped.

“No. I’m not joking. The information is out there if you look hard enough. Check for yourself.”

The music promptly began again.

“Holy shit…holy shit,” Elsa pulled a hand through her hair, “We need to get home. We need to get home right now.”

The music stopped.

“I’m not going home yet. Like I said, this killer, they’re ridiculously lazy. Either that or they’re just plain inept. They’ve tried to dispose of the bodies in the most feeble ways possible, they’re using the same methods to kill each and every time, they’ve stayed in the exact same district. They’re amateurs.”

The music promptly began again.

“Michiru, if you don’t wanna go back to your place, you’re welcome to come back to mine, I mean I know you haven’t been spending much time at home lately and it’s none of my business but-”

The music stopped.

Michiru exhaled sharply.

“You’re right. It certainly is none of your business. Please, go home, Elsa. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

“Fine, if you have to be like that. Sometimes I wonder why I’m even friends with you, you know?”

“I’m perfectly aware. Sometimes I wonder why you’re friends with me too. Stay safe,” Michiru said, more of an order than an offer of affection.

“I will, I will. Hey, at least if I get murdered on the way home, you’ll be able to track the killer, right?” Elsa grumbled, kicking over a chair on her way out.

“You’re not going to get murdered. Goodnight, Elsa.”

And with that, the music promptly began again.

—

Michiru, after dragging out practice as long as was humanely possible on about two and a half hours sleep, finally arrived home well after dusk, to the irritated sighs of her mother.

“Mama,” Michiru plastered a smile on her face, giving a curt nod as she passed her in the doorway, “you’re home early.”

“And you,” she replied icily, following Michiru through the hall, “are home late.”

“You actually noticed? You never fail to surprise me.”

“Very droll. Your father wishes to speak to you, he will be in his study.”

Michiru considered contending this for a second, but the way her mother’s eyebrows knitted together and the corners of her mouth downturned ever so slightly made her rethink her position. Michiru was already exhausted at the thought of all the veiled insults she’d be deflecting for the next week.

“I’ll go up and see him after dinner.”

“Ah, Michiru. Please do come in.”

Michiru was instantly reminded of her Headmistress’ office as she walked through the study – although Miss Meioh’s office was significantly more homey. Michiru had spent a significant amount of time sat in one of her extremely comfortable “Please Open Up to Me About Your Problems” chairs whilst completely ignoring every attempt the teacher made to gently wriggle her way into the student’s psyche. Not that Michiru could say she minded her attempts much. In actual fact, she found them somewhat endearing, and it was difficult to deny that Ms. Meioh made amazing tea.

Michiru always had time for amazing tea.

In any case, there was certainly no doubt that Michiru would much, much rather be sat in that office than the hard-backed chair she was now perching on. There was no tea to be found and she was pretty sure the room had never seen anything resembling central heating in years. Either that or her father just radiated cold air, which, when Michiru thought about it, was probably pretty likely.

“I have been wanting to discuss with you your plans for when you graduate from Mugen. I expect you’ve been thinking about it, yes?”

“Yes sir,” Michiru lied as she played with a thread on her skirt, never looking up.

“That’s good to hear. You see, I’ve been thinking about this too, and I have decided it would be best if you begin preparing to take over Kaioh Industries as soon as possible.”

Michiru froze, which Mr. Kaioh seemingly took as a sign to continue.

“There is an extraordinary amount that you will need to learn before you are ready to even take up a place on the board, never mind replace myself as President. You cannot start early enough, which is why you’ll be starting as an intern in one of my Tokyo offices the week after you graduate.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a little out of the way, we’ll have to find you an apartment to live in – only the best for my little girl of course. I’ve even arranged for you to shadow one of my best employees. In the winter, you’ll be moving on to London, where you will be-”

“What if I don’t want to?”

The room went quiet. Mr. Kaioh frowned, and Michiru swallowed hard.

“That doesn’t come into this,” he said monotonically.

“ _He’s scarier when he’s calm.”_ Michiru thought. “ _He’s always so much scarier when he’s calm.”_

“You see, Father, I was hoping to perhaps continue with my violin, try the professional circuit. I’m easily good enough, I have been for years. You’ve always said-”

“It doesn’t matter what I’ve always said, Michi,” Michiru flinched at his use of her nickname, “I’m saying something different now. I’m telling you, you’re going to start at the office in Tokyo the week after you graduate. You’re going to smile politely, you’re going to learn fast, you’re going to turn into the little businesswoman I’ve prepared you to be since before you were born.”

“But Father-”

“No, Michiru. You have no say in this. You are my daughter and you will do as I command. Now, please go and inform your Mother that I will be working until late, I’m afraid.” He smiled falsely and looked back down at his paperwork.

A dissenting reply failed on Michiru’s lips - she was never going to win this battle. The conversation was over, as it had been, she realised, from the moment she’d stepped into the study. Instead, she stood up, bowed her head a little, and walked out without another word.

—

Michiru kicked at the ground as she stormed through the courtyard, deliberately scuffing her new shoes. The winds lashed at her face and hair, but she barely felt it, consumed by her own internal rage. It was so unfair – everything was so unfair – as she felt the last bit of control she had over her skeleton of a life falling through her fingers. She shouldn’t have been surprised really. She had known since she was old enough to converse with her parents that her future was in the family business, but there had always been a glimmer of hope that she may escape somehow, or at the very least, be allowed her freedom until she was older.

It wasn’t until she reached the gate of the playground that she realised she was being watched. In the centre of the park was a large climbing frame. It was too large, really, considering Michiru couldn’t remember a time she’d ever had a friend there to play, but then again her parents never did anything in half measures. Atop the climbing frame was a lithe figure, hunched over as she clutched the bars for support. The girl was quite a bit taller than she was, with messy, short blonde hair and a thin, malnourished body that reminded Michiru somewhat of a neglected whippet. Beneath the bags of her eyes and the sallow skin stretched over sharp bones was the remnants of a handsome face with dark blue eyes and soft lips, and Michiru felt a sudden pull in her chest as she studied her.

“Excuse me? This is private property. I’m not sure you should be here, are you?” she called, the translation into cold Kaioh defence swift and painless. The girl jumped down from the climbing frame in a quick leap.

Truth be told, the last thing Michiru wanted was for the girl to leave. She certainly wasn’t beyond using intimidation to find out exactly what she wanted to know, however.

“Who are you?” she asked, as she promptly moved through to the playground. The girl remained where she stood. Her shirt was thin cotton, from what Michiru could see, and it blew up every time the wind passed through the courtyard, the dirty material gathering around her ribs and then returning to its rightful position. Her pants, on the other hand, seemed to be about three sizes too small, making it all the way down her long legs to just above her ankles and then stopping short. Her feet were bare and her toes were fidgeting with what Michiru could only presume was nerves. (Michiru, being used to the Kaioh ways of intimidation, couldn’t blame her anxiety.)

“I said, who are you? Don’t make me call the guards to remove you from the premises,” she folded her arms across her chest, avoiding eye contact with the stranger.

“I…” the stranger hesitated, her voice hoarse and unstable, as though she hadn’t spoken for a very long time. Michiru softened.

“Are you homeless or something?”

“No! No, I live with the housekeeper. The new one. She just started, uh…last week. I think. Yeah. I was just…looking around,” the girl nodded.

“I see.”

“Anyway, more importantly, who are you?” The surge of bravado in the stranger’s voice was tangible and Michiru almost wanted to laugh.

“Miss Michiru Kaioh, first daughter of the Master Kaioh and Misses Kaioh of this estate. Heiress,” she let the last word roll off her tongue, knowing that this was make or break. Announcing her status often led to one of two things – either, people started sucking up to her, or people ran away.

“Good to meet you, Miss Kaioh. Now what’s a pretty little girl like yourself doing out here all alone?” she swaggered, taking a seat on the climbing frame and studying Michiru for a reaction. Michiru shook her head.

“I could ask the same of you. You still haven’t told me your name.”

Another pause, and Michiru felt herself being silently appraised.

“Haruka.”

“And your last name?”

“I don’t have one.”

“What do you mean, you don’t have one?” Michiru asked.

“I’m an orphan. I’m just Haruka. Never needed another name,” she shrugged.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Really. It was an uh. It was a really long time ago, let’s just say. Anyway, I answered your question, now you answer mine. What are you doing out so late, beautiful?”

“I’m walking. It’s been a long day and I quite fancied some time alone on my land.”

“And…?”

“And you can stop with the compliments, it’s not getting you anywhere.”

“Noted.”

“Are you sure you’re with the housekeeper? I’ve never seen you around here before. I know every inch of this house. But not you,” Michiru sat next to her on the climbing frame, and their hands touched accidentally as she moved closer. Michiru jumped back. The girl was freezing cold, unsurprisingly, but what shocked her was the way the cold emanated from her, as though she was producing a chill.  _“Weird.”_ Michiru thought, frowning.

“Uh. You know what. It’s getting late, I should go…” Haruka said, a nervousness falling over her as she watched Michiru’s reaction with something between apprehension and fear.

“Fine. One more thing though.”

“What’s that?”

“Are you not cold, dressed like that?”

Haruka froze still for a moment and Michiru could almost hear her brain working like clockwork to think up something to say. Something obviously sparked, as she suddenly relaxed.

“I’m not cold, not with someone as gorgeous as you around to warm things up.” She darted off into the night, a shouted goodbye and a few grassy footprints the only evidence of her presence.

—

“We can’t be friends, you know.”

It was a week later, and Michiru had made a habit of meeting Haruka at the climbing frame around an hour after dusk had fallen. It was oddly nice having somebody her age around the estate and, even if she was skeptical about pretty much everything to do with Haruka’s existence, at least she was easy enough to get along with.

Not to mention, and this was something Michiru was increasingly realising, she was strangely charming in her own, unique, Haruka kind of way.

She was looking much healthier today, Michiru noticed, as she did her nightly study of the girl that was currently absorbed in a Rubik’s cube she seemed to take everywhere with her. The bags under her eyes had faded and the cheekbones that had previously protruded from her face were much softer and rounder. She frowned as she momentarily considered the logistics of such a quick health spurt, but shook it off as she realised, to be brutally honest with herself, nothing about Haruka, nor their odd but blossoming not-friendship made any kind of sense anyway.

“And why is that?”

“We just can’t. That’s the way it is,” she replied calmly, her eyes fixated on the puzzle in front of her.

“Okay. Does that mean you don’t want to meet up anymore?”

“No! No, of course not. We just can’t be friends, that’s all,” Haruka explained, as though what she was saying made all the sense in the world.

“Fine by me. I never much wanted to be your friend anyway,” she replied promptly, pulling her sketchbook out of her schoolbag and taking up her position on the climbing frame. Haruka looked up eagerly.

_Gotcha._

“Hey, can I look?”

“I’m very sorry Haruka. I only allow friends to look in my sketchbook.”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Haruka grumbled.

“You can look, if you want,” Michiru handed the book over, “It’s just my school sketchbook, nothing special-”

“Shit, this is good. You’re good. Fuck. How do you do this crap I’ve never even been able to hold a paintbrush…” Haruka babbled as she flicked through the book in awe, passing sketches of neighbourhood pets, odd bits of still life, the people in her class. She laughed at caricatures of Michiru’s family, looked on confused as Michiru attempted to explain the significance of her more surreal work, chattered and questioned intently the images of Michiru’s school life. It wasn’t long before she reached a pitch black page.

“Michiru, what’s this?”

“Oh, that just means it’s the end of the sketchbook,” she replied, leaning over to take it from her. Haruka kept hold.

“But it’s not, there’s loads more left…”

“Give it back.”

As it turned out, issuing a direct order was probably the least effective thing Michiru could have done in that moment - she realised this a split second too late, her typical wisdom skewed by the panic rising in her chest. Haruka had already, by this point, managed to scale a good portion of the climbing frame in more than impressive time, perching near the top and opening the sketchbook to the back pages.

“Is it like, porn or something? Have you been drawing dirty pictures in your cute little sketchbook, Michi? I never knew you- woahhhhh.”

Michiru braced herself.

“Michiru, what is all this?”

_My secret._

Haruka swung back down the climbing frame, landing next to Michiru and pulling at her arm.

“Don’t, Haruka.”

“No, I wanna talk to you about this. What are these drawings? Why is there so much…blood?” She whispered the last word, one finger stroking the page.

“It’s just a drawing, Haruka.”

“But why?”

Michiru sighed.

“You can tell me. Is this what you think about? Death?” Her tone was startlingly accepting and Michiru considered her options. She peered over at the book, noting the bright redness of the gore splashed across the man’s features. She could barely remember painting it, yet it had so easily flowed from her own hand.

“What would you do if I said yes?” she inquired.

“I’d say. I’d say that we might be more alike than you think.”

—

Michiru Kaioh had always been obsessed with death.

From a young age, the corpses of animals had held fascinating secrets, the intricacies of the decay of the body necessary knowledge even for a pre-teen. The visions that plagued her nightmares, images of destruction and endings and blood and screaming and pure, unadulterated loss, oft carried on into the daytime. Her parents, terrified at any hint of abnormality in their daughter, had promptly taken her to the best therapist in the city – a futile effort, but one that had left Michiru with a new hobby. Painting her nightmares certainly didn’t stop them. Drawing her fantasies wouldn’t make them go away. But somehow, having those images on paper, instead of burning a hole in her mind, made things slightly easier to deal with.

She’d never shown anyone, of course.

Until now.

Being with Haruka just felt so easy. In every other social interaction that was forced upon her, there was an underlying need for her to stay professional, for her to swallow back the thoughts that infiltrated her head, for her to stay proud, emotionless, and so utterly  _Kaioh_ that she’d been losing traces of her humanity ever since they’d started training her. At first, Michiru wondered if it was because Haruka was so odd herself, so out of the loop, so distanced from the norms and compressions of regular society that she was a breath of fresh air, but as they spent more and more time together Michiru soon realised that this was just how it was meant to be. For the first time, she could loop her arm through Haruka’s without fearing rejection, she could laugh aloud without fearing humility, she could exercise herself in a way that was so complacent and so normal and so serene that she often wondered how she had managed before. Her days passed quicker now she had the promise of Haruka in the evenings, though her reluctance to sleep only worsened when she came to understand that Haruka was positively nocturnal in her sleeping patterns. Weekends were the best times – when Michiru could easily stay up all night with her, talking and laughing and sometimes, just sitting in comfortable silence, enjoying the company of one another.

Increasingly, when she would catch Haruka looking at her, she would quietly wonder if her feelings were returned, or if the affection in her eyes was something she had merely imagined.

She was staring at her now, as she leaned back on the climbing frame, her eyes almost begrudging in their attention. Suddenly, her stomach groaned and Michiru looked pointedly at her.

“You’re hungry,” she stated plainly. Haruka looked startled.

“No! I’m fine, I ate before I left.”

“Haruka, your stomach sounds like it’s a beast of it’s own right now. Doesn’t that housekeeper you live with ever feed you?”

Haruka was silent.

“Sorry…I guess I shouldn’t pry,” Michiru said after a few moments, frowning, “in any case, I was about to head back for dinner myself, would you care to join me?”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward? Besides, like I said, I ate before I left.”

“Liar. My parents won’t be home yet anyway and if you think I’m going to leave you starving out here alone you’ve got another thing coming. Come  _on,_ Haruka. There’s cake and everything.”

Haruka swallowed, feeling her stomach let out another groan. Once upon a time, cake would have been ideal. She vaguely remembered, in the ghosts of a past life, having a sweet tooth that frequently got her into trouble with her parents and siblings, but that was something she hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. Still, the look of expectancy on Michiru’s face wasn’t something she was ever going to be able to say no to.

The house she lived next to but had never been permitted to enter was much, much larger than Haruka could ever have imagined. Winding hallways, empty rooms and hidden passages formed a maze of unrecognisable landmarks of wealth and indulgence. Michiru walked past all of it without so much as a glance, passing the portraits of the exceptionally beautiful with no comment, ignoring the lavish decorations of what should have been her home. Haruka followed closely, her arms snapped to her sides to prevent the accidents that came naturally with having such long limbs.

“This place is kinda like a museum,” she commented.

“That sounds about right. Come on, the kitchen’s through here.”

“You’d better not have been kidding about that ca - holy shit this is bigger than my  _house._ ”

“I wasn’t kidding. Which kind do you want? We’ve got sponge and chocolate and black forest and I think this is carrot cake…”

“All of it.”

“Ara, you’ve changed your tune,” Michiru said.

Haruka grinned as Michiru arranged the cake in front of her and sat on the stool opposite, resting her chin on her hands.

“Aren’t you making dinner?”

“Nope, I lied. I’m going to watch you eat this cake,” she stared at Haruka intensely, her eyes a deep blue. There was an ocean trapped between them, a calm within a storm, Haruka thought, as she let herself study Michiru properly, the way her limbs curled around the bottom of the stool she was perched on, her ankles crossed together, her hands settled, palms together, on her lap, the way her hair cascaded down her bare shoulders, a few strands falling into her face. They were just within Haruka’s reach. She leaned forward impulsively, moving to push the aqua hair back behind her ear, an attempt to cure the insatiable urge to touch her. Michiru placed a gentle hand over hers in response, a casual gesture, but one that sent shivers up Haruka’s spine nonetheless.

She was so beautiful.

“Michiru…” Haruka chewed her lip, not sure how to put what she was feeling into words. The glimmer of acceptance soon faded, however, when she took her first bite of the cake in front of her and was rapidly reminded of her own inhumanity. It tasted foul – it shouldn’t have done, she knew this, from the remnants of her past that still lingered within her mind. The memories of the joyful, almost childish sweetness of sugar were an anchor that kept her stuck in the knowledge of her own abnormality. She almost retched, but, looking up at Michiru again, focusing her eyes, she chewed, the sweetness burning through her tastebuds. She forced herself to swallow, choking slightly as the offending food seared down her throat, flashing a contorted smile at Michiru’s concerned look. Quietly, she offered her something else, maybe something savoury instead, but Haruka shook her head hard.

“I won’t be able to eat any of it,” she said bitterly,“I’m not normal.”

“Haruka, is there something you want to tell me?” Michiru asked softly.

Haruka opened her mouth, wondering if she would tell her, wondering if she had the ability to, but before any coherent words could make their way to her tongue she suddenly felt the urge to vomit and turned from the table, gripping the side and leaning over. Michiru rushed to her, almost knocking the stool over. She held onto Haruka’s shoulder, her arm around her back.

“Throw it up, Haruka. It’s okay,” she murmured, pulling the bin towards them and placing it in front of her. She held blonde hair back from her face as Haruka retched.

“Haruka,” she asked, when it was over and Haruka was sat with her head in the crook of Michiru’s arm, “why can’t you eat?”

Haruka grunted.

“You’re not usually one to pry.”

“Yes. But if there’s something wrong with you, I’d like to help. If I can. Please. If there’s medication you need, I’ll pay for it,” she gently brushed her thumb in circles on Haruka’s back.

“No medication in the world could help me. I’m not like you. I’m not like any of them,” Haruka whispered sadly, her eyes glazing over.

“Haruka. What exactly  _are_ you?”

—

Haruka ran up the stairs, tripping on the last step in her haste, cursing to herself as she fell on her knee then laughing at her own carelessness. She’d spent the night with Michiru, yet again, and things had only been getting better and better. The topic of her vampirism had been dropped after an enquiry as to how she went about getting food (“My housekeeper kills people for me.” “Ara, the life you lead.”) and a lecture on proper disposal of a body (“I give you another week before you get caught as it is. The police are stupid, Haruka, but they’re not  _that_ stupid.) As they had parted just before dawn, Michiru had leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Haruka had been so dazed for a good ten minutes afterwards she had almost ended up getting burned by the rising sun.

“You’re late this morning, dear,” the housekeeper said, moving past her on the stairs, “I’ll be off to work soon.”

“Have a good day,” Haruka absent-mindedly replied.

“There’s lipstick on your face,” the housekeeper frowned. Haruka cupped her cheek where Michiru’s lips had been.

“Erm…”

“It’s that Michiru girl isn’t it? The one that lives next door. Haruka, she’s the child of the house I work at. Do you not think this could be dangerous?”

“It’s fine! She doesn’t know about me,” Haruka lied.

“What if she finds out?”

“She won’t.”  _She already knows, she already guessed, and she’s never cared._

“Haruka. You’re not to see her anymore, okay? Girls in your…condition…should not be leaving the house like this, frolicking around with humans, getting yourself in all sorts of trouble. No, you’ll stay here where I can keep an eye on you.”

“But-” Haruka started.

“No! I’m the one putting my life on the line here. I’m the one going out and doing the dirty work and you have the audacity to put that in jeopardy by opening yourself up to risk like this!?”

“I’m sorry,” Haruka mumbled, staring at her feet.

“Make it up to me then. Don’t see that girl again.”

The housekeeper kissed her roughly on the lips and Haruka felt the sting of betrayal sear through her. She nodded, trying hard not to cry as thoughts of Michiru flooded her mind. What would she think? What would she say?

The housekeeper broke off, running one finger down the side of her face, wiping Michiru’s lipstick away.

“Good girl. Make sure you’re here when I get home today. I’ll be bringing food. But if I hear you’ve seen that girl again…”

She didn’t have to finish her threat. Haruka was utterly dependent on her ability to kill – something Haruka wasn’t sure she could do any longer. For over a hundred years now she had been taken care of in some way or another, only having to hunt for herself on odd occasions and the thought of going back to the routine of committing murder every week or so preyed heavily on her conscience. She’d tried many a time to starve herself, that being the only true way to kill a vampire, but by the time a month went by she was losing control of her own mind and had become a liability to all around her. No, the housekeeper would have to find her blood to drink, and Haruka would just have to pray the victims weren’t too young.

“I’m going to sleep. Don’t open the door until I’m tucked in,” Haruka stood, making her way to the top of the stairs.

“Make sure you’re here when I get home. You won’t be getting fed otherwise. Have a good sleep, now.”

Haruka went into her room, an eerily cold pitch black darkness that had only begun to feel inadequate ever since Michiru had come into her life. She sighed, checking the boards over the windows to make sure they were secure (she had once, a long time ago, been cruelly woken up in the middle of the day with third degree burns caused by an insecure window covering) and slid underneath the covers, curling her long limbs up into a ball. It was only when she heard the front door click shut from downstairs that she let herself cry.

—

“Can I come in?”

Michiru remained silent, her gaze fixed on the vampire before her. She didn’t even bother to ask how exactly Haruka had managed to climb up the side of the house without anybody noticing – and when she really thought about it, the benefits of her being able to do this far outweighed any risk of Haruka getting caught. Now, she was perched on her windowsill, her hands resting on the glass, looking vaguely similar to an abandoned puppy in a pet shop. Michiru had initially been annoyed with her, after Haruka had cancelled their date last minute for reasons she wouldn’t even tell her, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay annoyed.

“Michi, can I come in? We really need to talk about-”

“Why don’t you just let yourself in? You’re perfectly capable. Just open the window.”

Haruka sighed and gritted her teeth, snow beginning to settle on her shoulders. She brushed it off irritably and tried again.

“Michiru Kaioh. May I come in?”

“What happens if I don’t let you?” Michiru’s eyes sparkled mischeivously in the dim light of her bedroom lamp.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Perhaps I do.”

With a grunt, Haruka had flung the window open, jumping into the room alongside a burst of cold air. Michiru ran to shut the window, shivering slightly in her nightdress.

“Do you have to be quite so melodramatic with everything? This isn’t Dracula, I’m not about to – oh my God.”

Blood dripped down Haruka’s deathly pale cheek, as she peered up at Michiru through blood-filled eyes. The liquid seemed to be emerging from every area of her face, and as she heaved with the effort of staying upright, Michiru noticed spots of red appearing on Haruka’s chest, soaking through her shirt. She coughed and spluttered as the metallic sheen dribbled down her chin, covering her lips and it wasn’t until Haruka began to beg that Michiru finally unfroze-

“I’m sorry!! I’m so sorry, you can come in, Haruka, you’re allowed, it’s okay, you’re allowed, it’s fine, you can come in!” Michiru pressed her thumbs against Haruka’s cheeks, frantically attempting to wipe the blood away and failing, her apologies becoming more and more desperate.

“You know,” Haruka croaked, craning her neck so she could spit a mouthful of blood, “I’ve never seen you lose your cool like this before. It’s nice.”

“Are you okay?” Michiru asked softly, rubbing her hands along Haruka’s arms subconsciously as she studied her redded features.

“Yeah. It’ll just take a second to like. Get the blood out or whatever. S’cool, now you’ve said the magic words and everything.”

“Don’t you dare ever do anything like that again.”

Haruka nodded her approval and took the handkerchief offered to her, wiping the sides of her mouth and eyes. She looked uncertain for a second. She’d never seen Michiru lose her cool before, not even with the way things were now, with her life suddenly caught up in this mess of death, decay and a multitude of things she had previously thought were nothing more than childish fantasy. She’d taken it so well that Haruka was somewhat confused. It only took a steady hand on her shoulder and a finger raising her chin to shake her worries, however, as deep blue eyes met her own.

“Were you….were you really worried about me?” Haruka grinned, displaying stained teeth.

“Oh, Haruka.”

When she left a few hours later, Haruka was content for the first time in a long while, safe in the knowledge that somebody, finally, cared. She’d gone hundreds of years longing for this, for somebody that would do more than simply use her for their own needs, and dispose of her when they got bored. She could only wish that Michiru never would. Leaving her side was looking to be more and more impossible.

When she arrived back at the house, she sneaked through the back door and shut it as quietly as possible.

The feeling of safety that had begun to reside in her chest fizzled out instantly as she switched on the light.

“You’ve been with that girl again, haven’t you?”

_Shit._

“Nah, I just went out for a walk, it’s pretty boring here when you’re asleep, don’t worry about it!” Haruka backtracked rapidly. The look of pure anger the housekeeper shot her made her flinch and for a moment she wondered if running back to Michiru’s house was still an option.

“I can smell her on you. Don’t lie to me, Haruka.” she snapped, striding towards her and taking her by the wrist. “Don’t betray me again.”

“I didn’t betray you. There’s nothing here to betray,” Haruka murmured, not entirely sure whether or not she intended the housekeeper to hear.

“Excuse me?”

She instantly regretted her decision to talk back, as she was slapped swiftly across the face.

“I have killed for you. Do you know how many people I’ve killed to keep you alive?”

“That doesn’t mean you own me!” Haruka replied angrily.

“Haruka, darling. You don’t seem to be understanding how this works,” the housekeeper laughed. Haruka felt sick at the sound.

“How do you mean?”

“You know, when somebody takes care of, feeds, protects, shelters an animal? Do you know what they call that? A pet. And pets shouldn’t ever run away from home,” she sneered. Haruka’s fists balled up, her hair falling over her face.

“I’m telling you right now, Haruka. You either do as I command, or you leave this house this instant. I don’t look after pets that aren’t trainable,” she shrugged, walking away with an infuriating smirk on her face. Haruka punched the wall, blood trickling down her fist. She followed her, gripped her by the throat and pushed her back against the door, spitting in her face. Years of abuse ran through her mind as she saw the whites of her eyes, the fear striking her face. Haruka could kill her easily, they both realised. She could already feel her canines growing into sharp points, her mouth aching with the effort. She stilled. Harming her would do nothing but bring more questions and most likely, would only lead to her needing to leave yet again – something Haruka couldn’t bare to face, not when Michiru was here. She threw her to the ground, spitting again, before grabbing her rucksack.

“I’m not your fucking pet,” she said coldly as she slammed the door behind her.

—

The air was still, the rain having subsided for a short while. Haruka seemed annoyed by this, and it wasn’t until Michiru thought logically about the process of attacking a stranger that she figured out why.

It was much, much more difficult to hide when the skies were this clear.

Being made officially homeless had massively improved Haruka’s life, something which she hadn’t expected at first, but, with Michiru’s essentially unlimited supply of money, finding a suitable hotel had been easy and painless. (Haruka initially attempted to insist on a hostel, but Michiru had looked so offended at the mere prospect that she couldn’t bring herself to even try to convince her.) It was simpler now for them to spend time together, with a safe warm room to stay in, though they did occasionally spend evenings sat on the climbing frame they’d met on. That courtyard was a part of her life Haruka now never wanted to let go of, not when it had brought her such joy in the form of one Michiru Kaioh. The only problem with Haruka’s lack of a guardian was, as it was always going to be, food. She managed three weeks on an empty stomach, distracting herself with Top Gear reruns and the soft touch of Michiru’s fingers on her skin, but it was getting to be too much and when her fangs grew and refused to go back to human size, Haruka knew she had to do something. Michiru, of course, had insisted she accompany her, despite Haruka’s multiple protests and arguments. The guilt was almost impossible to bear already, and what if Michiru got hurt?

Nevertheless, as with the vast, vast majority of their disputes, Michiru won in the end.

Now she was watching from a safe distance away, behind a carefully selected row of tall bushes. Haruka had insisted, her eyes large and terrifying, that Michiru should not, under any circumstances step any closer to her, no matter what happened. Michiru was pretty sure she wouldn’t necessarily be keeping that promise should something go wrong, but she assured Haruka that she’d stay put nonetheless.

Now, the vampire was approaching the bridge, staggering slightly with the effort of movement. She took her position, curling up in the darkness at the edge of the wall, a little alcove that hid any sign of her face. There was silence for a few minutes and Michiru could feel her heart through her chest.

Then, footsteps. The sound of a man saying goodbye to friends. He walked closer to the bridge, past where Michiru was sat and a burst of sympathy surged through her as she realised he was still smiling after his night out. She peered over, acutely aware that this was the first time she would get to see that which she had been dreaming and painting all these years. The man approached Haruka and Michiru could just make out the sounds of her rehearsed crying. He bent over to get a closer look, asking if she was alright and the concern in his voice sent another shot of pity through Michiru.

_They need to be good, Michiru. That’s the worst thing. The way that I do this, they’re always good people. They have to be, to fall into my trap._

“Would you like me to take you home? Are you injured? Come here, I’ll-”

The scream let Michiru know the plan had worked. Gathering herself, she looked over. The man flailed backwards, Haruka’s nails gripping the back of his shirt, her face pressed into his neck. His scream slowly, painfully ebbed away as he fell back onto the floor, twitching slightly, Haruka at his neck, blood pooling around him. Michiru ran forward, stumbling down the grassy bank until she reached the scene. Haruka snarled at her and she jumped backwards. Blood covered her face, her eyes wide and angry, small growling noises emerging from her throat.

“ _She doesn’t even recognise me,”_ Michiru realised silently, taking another step back as Haruka resumed her feeding with rigour, attacking the unbitten skin at the other side of the throat until the man was near decapitation. Michiru waited, waited for the bile to rise in her mouth, for her legs to carry her away, but nothing happened. She watched, quietly, curiously, as Haruka drained the man of all use and sat up, momentarily lost in herself as she stared ahead. Her pupils returned to their normal size. Her hands began to shake.

It wasn’t until she looked down at the bloodied mess beneath her that she began sobbing. She was nothing more than a child, clutching at the man’s shirt and howling into it as her guilt consumed her mercilessly, the tears running trails down her bloodstained face.

“Don’t come near me,” she whimpered as she heard Michiru approach. She was ignored. Michiru reached her arms across the body and pulled Haruka into them. If she was aware of the blood now soaking into her designer skirt, she didn’t care, as she rocked the girl in her arms backwards and forwards. Haruka wept then, openly, murmuring incoherent words into Michiru’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, ‘Ruka, it’s over. It’s all over,” she whispered, kissing her damp hair, holding her closer. Haruka sniffed and shook her head.

“It’s never over. You don’t understand. You’ll never understand,” she stared down at her blood-covered hands, as though she had never truly seen them before.

“Don’t you see? I’m a monster. I’m nothing but a monster.”

With that, she began to cry again, and Michiru felt her heart shatter at the hopelessness of the wail.

“You’re Haruka,” she murmured as pressed her face into shaggy blonde hair. “You’re not a monster, you’re just Haruka.”

—

“Ara, Michiru, darling?”

_Fuck._

“Yes, Mama?”

“Where are you off to so late in the evening?”

“The exact same place I’ve been going every night for the past five weeks,” Michiru murmured through gritted teeth, then replied louder “I’m meeting up with a friend.”

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea, darling,” her mother shook her head, false empathy painted across her features.

“Whyever not? You’ve never taken interest in my affairs before.”

“You’re not a child anymore, Michiru. You have responsibilities here at home,” her father interrupted from where he was sat at the dining table.

Michiru tentatively enquired which kind of responsibilities those would happen to be, and instantly wished she hadn’t asked. She should have stormed out. She should have left without another word, if she had she’d be with Haruka now-

“Good evening. My name is Brad.”

“Father, who is this and what exactly is he doing in our sitting room?” Michiru ignored the boy and directed the full force of her anger at her father.

“As the future head of Kaioh Industries, it is your responsibility both to keep up appearances in the public eye, and ensure the continuation of our great family line.”

Michiru blinked. She spluttered.

“ _What!?”_

“Now, now, Michiru. We’re not to be ringing wedding bells or such just yet. But you will be getting to know this young chap here. He’s a good boy, he’s getting astounding grades in his studies, has a fantastic career lined up ahead of him, comes from a very affluent family from the west side of the city. He’s really quite the match, your mother and I have been very, very thorough in picking only the best for our little girl,” he finished, and smiled graciously at the boy, who seemed slightly bewildered.

“Father,” Michiru replied, “This is not a store and you are not picking out a pet for me to take home. I do not wish to have anything to do with this boy.”

Mr. Kaioh sighed and pulled her out of the room, masking his rough grip beneath a falsely placid “please excuse us a moment,” to the boy now sat alone in the sitting room.

“Michiru, I am not going to play games with you. Either you will court this young man or I will find another. If you think I am going to let you gallivant around as you please, with all the rumours you have practically encouraged with your behaviour, then you must think again.” Every word was laced with razor sharp insistence and Michiru felt hatred curl inside her stomach.

“What sort of rumours would those be, Father?” she smirked, knowing all too well the extent to which that would irritate him.

“You know fully well what sort of rumours. I do not care if those rumours are true, as of today, those rumours end. You will be marrying a man of my approval, and you will stay away from those girls you spend your barbaric waste of a life with. Don’t give me that look – you thought I didn’t know what people say about you? I know everything that goes on in this city, Michiru. I know every rumour, I know every secret you’ve _ever_ tried to keep from me. And it ends right now. All of that ends.”

Michiru recoiled.

There was silence as her father waited for the white flag to rise.

As it did.

“So, Father, what was this young man’s name again?”

He smiled, taking her by the hand and leading her back through to the sitting room.

—

Michiru stared out into darkness, wide awake but fully enjoying the feel of Haruka’s body pressed against her chest. Her breathing was soft and steady. It was truly unbelievable how she would actually manage to sleep through the night sometimes, considering she was supposedly nocturnal. Michiru couldn’t even bring herself to feel jealous, not when she looked so relaxed and content. Gently, she traced circles across the vampire’s back, enjoying the way she could feel the chill of skin under her sleeping shirt. Michiru sat up so she could run one hand through her hair. Smiling at the way Haruka naturally leaned closer to her hand, it dawned on her, not for the first time that night, that there was nothing Michiru needed more than  _this,_ and that, for potentially the first time ever, the feeling of affection felt natural in her heart. Kissing Haruka’s forehead, Michiru pushed all thoughts of the rest of the world out of her head and took her hand, rubbing a thumb across the palm. Haruka stirred, her eyes fluttering open.

“Haruka, I need to ask you something.”

“Michi? What is it?”

“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

Michiru saw the sheets move in the darkness as Haruka sat up.

“W-what?”

“I said. Would you like to be my girlfriend? It’s quite a simple question, Haruka,” Michiru smiled, tightening her grip on the vampire’s hand. She was freezing, as usual, but there was something comforting about the coolness of her bloodless touch combined with the warmth of Michiru’s own skin, as though she could actually squeeze life into her if she tried hard enough.

“But I’m not a real girl. I’m not even human,” Haruka chewed her lip anxiously and Michiru felt herself overwhelmed with affection. Haruka’s head was tilted slightly, confusion in her eyes, her body slight and delicate, clad in nothing but a white vest and boxer shorts she’d quickly changed into when Michiru had decided she wanted to sleep.

“Haruka. Do you really think something as irrelevant as that is going to matter to me?”

“No, but. I can’t possibly be your girlfriend if I’m not a girl. That just doesn’t make any sense,” Haruka said, bringing her knees up to her chest.

“It makes total sense to me,” Michiru replied simply.

“I don’t understand…” Haruka’s voice was small.

“What don’t you understand? Explain it to me. Because I’d very much like you to be my girlfriend, you dolt.”

“You could have any girl you wanted, Michi. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re beautiful. I mean, you’re amazing. Everything about you is amazing. And all those girls at school you talk about, the ones with the normal lives and the families and the classes and the hopes and the dreams, you could have any of those girls. You could go out for fancy dinners with them, go to the park-”

“Haruka, I think you’ll find we go to the park all the time. In fact, it’s your favourite place. I struggle getting you off the swings most nights.” Michiru interrupted.

“Fine, go to the park in the daytime, then. Wouldn’t that be nice, being able to go out together with your pretty girlfriend in the sun and maybe take a picnic or feed the birds and there would probably be children playing and it’d be all great and perfect. You could even introduce her to your parents. I bet they’d love her, once they got over the whole lesbian thing, and let’s be honest, your parents would be cool with it once they realised it makes them unique and shit. Mr. and Mrs. Kaioh talking to their rich, beautiful friends about their rich, beautiful lesbian daughter and her rich, beautiful girlfriend. I bet she’d take you out to dinner and everything. The both of you would actually be able to eat food and sit in the candlelight and share romantic glances and it’d be oh so fucking perfect.”

“Are you finished?” Michiru asked quietly.

“Michiru. I’m an animal. You need to realise this,” Haruka pleaded, “We can’t do all those things normal couples do. We can’t go on nice dates or eat nice food – unless, I don’t know, you want me to kill a fancy waiter or something, which may potentially spoil the evening or whatever and don’t even THINK about introducing me to your parents. What would you even say? This is Haruka, she’s 300 years old, she’s literally allergic to sunlight and – oh yeah – she’s most likely responsible for the untimely deaths of a good few of your local acquaintances. Yeah, I’m sure that’s the kinda partner they had in mind for their precious daughter,” she laughed bitterly.

“You know something. I thought you understood me. Maybe I was wrong,” Michiru replied lightly.

“I understand you perfectly.”

“Then how can you possibly think I’d ever give a damn about what my parents think about anything, never mind what they think about you.”

Haruka didn’t respond, her eyes at her knees again. Michiru took her face in her hands and forced her to look up.

“Haruka, answer me something. Do you love me?”

“Yes,” the words had left Haruka’s lips almost before Michiru had even finished her question and she looked slightly surprised at her own sincerity.

“Listen to me. That fantasy girl you talked about just then – I don’t care who she is, I don’t want her. I want you. And trust me, Haruka, I know what I want. I know perfectly well what I want. Everybody else is trying to tell me what I want, but do you think anybody ever asks me? No they fucking don’t. And right now, all I want is you, right here, in this bed.”

“You want me?” Haruka whispered in disbelief.

“Of course I do. And we all know I always get what I want,” Michiru replied, leaning up to kiss her. She felt Haruka’s lips turn into a smile against hers as she leaned back, tilting her head, her tongue tracing Michiru’s teeth. She bit down gently, tangling her hands in blonde hair and Haruka moaned, much to Michiru’s delight, her eyes half lidded, as Michiru’s breath, hot and heavy, travelled down to her neck. She circled the familiar bitemark with her tongue, speckling kisses around the blemish, every so often looking back upwards to watch Haruka’s face vary from lust to love to a shade of utter contentment that Michiru felt reflected in her own heart. It was so odd, yet so welcome, to have gaps that had been left unfilled her entire life finally swell with emotion she had never been entirely sure she’d be able to retain.

“I’ve never had a girlfriend before. Have you?” Haruka whispered suddenly and Michiru sat up on Haruka’s lap. She kissed her forehead softly and stroked a restless strand of hair back from her face.

“I’ve never had a girlfriend as beautiful as you.”

Haruka averted her eyes and Michiru was sure she would have blushed if she had the capability to.

“Do you really not mind? Really? About me killing people and shit?”

Michiru shook her head, lying down on the pillow next to Haruka and pulling herself forward so their lips were almost touching. Haruka’s eyes followed her every move.

“Thinking about it, I actually quite enjoy the idea of my parents finding out I’m dating a vampire. They’d be so angry,” Michiru mused.

“You’re weird, you know that?”

“I revel in it,” Michiru whispered, bringing their lips together again.

—

The air was flurried with snow this time and both Haruka and Michiru were glad of it - not only did it provide ample covering for hunting, but it gave Michiru an excuse to “keep Haruka warm” on their way to the park. (Haruka’s confused protestations of “but I don’t get cold!” unsurprisingly fell on deaf ears.) Michiru had guided Haruka towards a wooded area situated close to her house, far from anywhere she’d chosen to hunt before. This was something that made Haruka initially nervous, being naturally inclined to move away from Michiru’s household when it came to anything even remotely dangerous, but as Michiru pointed out, using similar areas and tactics as she always had done was putting them both in a much worse position. They sat behind a cluster of branches, Michiru wrapping her limbs around Haruka’s body and snuggling into her back, planting kisses on the base of her neck in an attempt to calm her nerves.

“Just remember I love you, okay?” she whispered into the fabric of Haruka’s sweater.

“Hhmh…yeah…I…yeah,”

“Haruka, darling, use your words,” Michiru teased.

“Iloveyoutoo.”

Footsteps arrived all too soon and Michiru reluctantly relinquished her hold, tucking her knees into her arms and moving further into the thicket. Haruka paused, looking back at her and Michiru nodded her onwards, hoping it would all be over soon, for Haruka’s sake. The vampire ducked behind a tree further up and Michiru saw her back straighten and a growl escape from her throat. She kept a close eye on her victim, moving from tree to tree, until she stopped at one and climbed up, her limbs moving unnaturally fast. Focusing her attention on the victim, Michiru realised that he must have been at least their age (something which relieved her greatly as killing a child would have finished Haruka completely) and, as far as she could tell, he was completely alone. There were a few moments of quiet. Michiru could hear nothing but the crunch of the man’s footsteps and the sounds of her own breathing. Then, she heard a cry, a yelp, and the snapping of a neck. She kneeled and watched as the blood seeped into the snow, never taking her eyes off Haruka, acutely aware of how vulnerable she was in this state, out in the open, her teeth bared and her bloodthirst in full swing as she drank. She was almost finished when a shout came from the other side of the park. Michiru’s blood ran cold. More footsteps, more shouting, and Haruka was growling and crying and shaking, blood dripping from her clothes and lower face, and it was probably only a few seconds but it felt so much longer before Michiru finally reached her, pulling her from the corpse and praying, praying so hard that she recognised it was her. The voices were getting louder. Haruka gripped her tightly and for a few moments, Michiru thought she was going to attack.

“Haruka, it’s me. Listen to me, Haruka, can you hear my voice? We need to go, we need to run, there are people coming. Please. It’s me, it’s Michiru, it’s me, it’s only me,” she begged, clinging to her, her hands finding Haruka’s face, her thumbs stroking her cheeks.

“Listen to me. Let me in, Haruka. Let me in,” she whispered, pressing their foreheads together. Somewhere in the back of her perception she could hear yelling. They had been spotted. Haruka’s eyes refocused and blinked, before a look of recognition flashed through them.

“Michiru,” she breathed, letting her arms go slack.

“We need to go, we need to go right now, come  _on_ , Haruka!” Michiru pulled at her wrist and the situation suddenly registered with the vampire, as she practically flew past Michiru, their hands tangling together as they ran.

Michiru was panting slightly when they finally made it back to the courtyard, Haruka’s supernatural abilities leaving her body more than capable of managing the distance. Haruka turned to her with a pained expression on her face.

“I have to leave. They saw me, I have to leave.”

“You can’t.”

“I have to go, Michiru, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry, I was so foolish, I knew it was too early in the evening, I knew it, I’m so fucking stupid-”

“I’m coming with you.”

“What?”

“There’s nothing here for me. So. I’m coming with you,” Michiru said simply.

“But-”

“Haruka, dear. You know for a fact you’re never going to win in an argument with me. Give up. I’ll run upstairs and get a bag, we can be away within the hour I promise,” she kissed her gently, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood, before running off into the night.

—

Michiru threw what few possessions she cared about into a bag, leaving the riches of a room she’d lived in for seventeen years untouched as she swiftly packed her violin and raced back down the stairs. She should leave a note, she thought in the back of her mind, but it was fleeting - not only was there no time, but she also had zero inclination to do anything at all to make this separation easier for her parents. Tugging a jacket around her shoulders, she made her way to the kitchen, but froze when she heard familiar voices.

 _They weren’t supposed to be back until Saturday._  She gritted her teeth and steadied her breathing.

“Michiru. Come here right now.”

She darted for the nearest window, hitching her skirt and attempting to climb over, but her father was faster, grabbing her by the back of her neck and pulling her down onto the floor. He picked her up by both wrists and she hissed, thrashing as he twisted her arms behind her and forced her still.

“You can either willingly come through to the kitchen and explain yourself, or I will force you to. It’s your choice,” he stated plainly, and Michiru couldn’t help but wonder whether he had ever cared for her as anything more than an object at all.

“I’m leaving,” she said, steady and firm, channeling every lesson she had absorbed during her flimsy excuse for a childhood. Her father simply laughed and dragged her back through to the kitchen, where her mother was sat, her face pinched and stern.

“Did you hear that, darling? Michiru says she’s leaving,” he laughed again and Michiru bit back a retort.

“Don’t be so silly, Michiru dear. Go back upstairs, you have school in the morning-”

“I’m not going to school. I’m going away,” she stated, attempting to wrestle out of her father’s grip and failing.

Mrs. Kaioh didn’t even afford Michiru the pride of a proper response, sighing and rolling her eyes like she was a toddler tantruming over bedtime.

“I’ll be safe, I promise. I’m not going alone, you see. I’m going with my girlfriend.”

Her mother looked like she’d been slapped, and Michiru felt a rush of joy at the hurt in her eyes. She didn’t care whether her parents knew she was safe or otherwise, but the fact she would be leaving the sanctity of their household with another woman? That was valuable ammo that certainly hadn’t missed its mark.

“You’re a silly little girl,” she replied, her voice scarily calm, “You’re a silly little girl and you’re going to do as Mummy and Daddy tell you and go upstairs to sleep.”

Michiru felt a hand move around her throat. She tried turning her head, but he wouldn’t let her, keeping her tightly locked in place.

“Papa, what are you-”

“Don’t make me hurt you, Michiru,” he said softly, and for the first time Michiru heard something that sounded eerily close to love in his voice, but it flickered and extinguished as his grip on her neck tightened. Michiru squeaked momentarily before recollecting herself.  _You have to get out of here. Haruka needs you._ She glanced around the kitchen, looking with no avail for a useful weapon within reach, her options looking increasingly slim as she wondered whether physical force would be any use to her here. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a dash of movement through the kitchen window and frowned.

_Haruka._

She stopped still, watching, and Michiru could tell the exact point at which she realised what was going on from the look of horror on her face. A split second later and the window was shattered, Haruka leaping through the air towards them, her clothes still stained with the gore of her meal, her eyes beginning to swell with her own blood from her disrespect of the rules of entering. She used this to her advantage, menacing towards Mr. Kaioh, and Michiru reveled in the sound of her mother screaming from somewhere under the table.

“Who the fuck are you!?”

“Father, may I introduce you to my girlfriend, Haruka. Haruka, this is my Father,” Michiru said.

“Let her go,” Haruka growled, blood coming from her mouth and chest now, covering her and dripping to the floor. Michiru ran as her father obeyed, his eyes wide with fright and his resolve completely lost. She grabbed a knife from the counter as he made for the door, but Haruka leapt, landing on his back, flipping him over and pinning him down onto the floor, spitting blood as she spoke to him.

“She’s your fucking daughter, you piece of shit.”

With that, she punched him square in the face, knocking him out with one swing in her superpowered state.

“No, Haruka, darling. You’re wrong. I’m not his daughter. Not anymore,” Michiru smiled softly, wandering over to where her mother was sobbing under the table, “that goes for you too, Mother. Have a nice life.”

She went to Haruka, pulling her from her father’s limp form and holding her close.

“It’s okay. You can come in. I love you,” she murmured, watching as the bleeding stemmed and stopped fully, wiping the remains off her lips with her sleeve and kissed her.

“I was so worried, when you didn’t come back, and I was thinking that maybe you’d changed your mind and you didn’t wanna come anymore which would be fine I mean because it’s gonna be really dangerous and stuff and you would maybe have a better life here an’ shit an’ I’m so sorry I thought that I shouldn’t have thought that I shouldn’t have doubted you but yeah so I came to check and…I’m so sorry…” Haruka babbled and Michiru kissed her again just by way of shutting her up. When she pulled away, Haruka’s eyes remained closed, a goofy smile of pure elation on her face and Michiru couldn’t help but giggle despite the situation.

“Wait here. I have something to sort out and then we’ll go. We’ll go for good,” Michiru stroked her fingers down Haruka’s bloodstained cheek and made her way over to the table, kneeling down to where her mother was curled up, still crying.

“Ara, mama. You’ll ruin your make-up, crying like that. Now listen carefully. This is how it’s going to be. If you’re good and don’t tell the authorities about any of this - you will tell them I am on a long visit with relatives and I’ll be catching up with my education there – I will return to take over this business when I am ready. You will tell nobody about anything you saw. You will tell nobody about what happened tonight. You will tell nobody of Haruka’s existence. If you do otherwise, or break any of these rules, I will have Haruka bite me – she’s a vampire, in case you haven’t guessed, it’s quite useful, really - and you will never see your darling daughter ever again. You understand, yes? So. Which will it be?”

—

_Three years later._

Michiru yawned as she unscrewed the container, setting it down on the ground and grabbing the knife from behind her. The man she had caught this time was heavier than usual and hoisting him so he was hanging upside down from the tree had proved difficult. The perfectly aimed wound in his heart dripped downwards, the blood hitting the wooded ground with a soft, steady, placid tapping sound which relaxed Michiru considerably. She studied the man’s face as she flicked the cap off the knife, running one finger across the edge. It was sharpened. Good. With a flick of her wrist she slit his throat cleanly, positioning the container to catch the blood and sitting back. She had revised her methods multiple times over the years, changing the cause of death, the ways of draining the neck, the design of the container, but she was finally certain she’d got it completely optimised. In fact, the way this was going, she’d most likely be home within the hour, back in Haruka’s arms, where she belonged.

“Are you finished yet?” she murmured, pacing around the body and picturing the look on Haruka’s face when she got home early. She’d have just woken up, with her hair stood on end and her eyes drooping shut whenever she thought Michiru wasn’t looking. Michiru would watch her drink with the same fascination she always did and when she was finished they would go back to bed and Michiru would kiss her bloodied face, kiss her stomach swelled from feeding, kiss her thighs, kiss between her legs, kiss everywhere and anywhere her lips could find. Nothing was sweeter to her ears than the sounds she could make Haruka elicit, nothing gentler on her tongue than the feel of her soft, familiar skin.

She pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind.  _The quicker you’re done with this, the quicker you’re back to her._ She let the body down gently. Screwed the cap on the container. Pulled the body to the sled. Pushed it down to the river. Broke though the ice with her foot. Slid him through. Washed her hands. Picked up the container. Tucked it into her rucksack.

When she made her job seem like factory line, it took the edge off the fact she was committing murder, Michiru found. She leaned back on the snow, considering her life now. She was forced to move home every two or three months, was never allowed to settle too long in one place, her girlfriend was unable to leave the house during the day, they typically had to reside in a boarded up shack to minimise attention drawn to them and she killed men every other week, drained their necks and brought the blood back home.

Nothing would ever be the same again. But as she thought of Haruka, and her gentle innocence, and her hands stained with centuries of blood, warmth spread through her chest. She would protect her, no matter what lengths she had to go to, no matter how many people she had to kill.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

Michiru would never want it to be.


	2. Epilogue: A Fairytale Ending

Michiru moved her hand lower, listening for the quickened intake of Haruka’s breath before she gently touched lips to her neck, peppering the skin with kisses. She peered up at her, noting the way her eyes flickered with each movement Michiru made, torn between bliss and a desire to watch. Michiru bit down on cold skin and Haruka cried out sharply.

 

_[“You can’t die, can you? You’re immortal. And I’m not.” “Michiru, we’re not having this discussion.”]_

 

Haruka was so beautiful, laid out in front of her like this. Michiru sat up, straddled her, grazed her thumbs down the lines of Haruka’s form, the slight curve of her breasts, the pointed jut of her hips, the seemingly endless stretch of her legs. She could feel Haruka’s fascinated eyes follow her as she moved, occasionally allowing her mouth to follow her thumbs, feeling for the places that would make Haruka crumble before her, nothing more than a collection of vowels at the mercy of Michiru’s hands, Michiru’s lips. Her body was so extensive, lanky, coltish in figure, a delicate image with a unique strength hidden beneath the muscles of fine limbs, a strength which tainted the innocent heart that beat through her body. The hands that gripped desperately at the white of the sheets could snap a neck in less than an instant. The legs that shuddered involuntarily as Michiru kissed between them were capable of outrunning any other beast, human or not, on this planet. The mouth that succumbed so easily to Michiru’s kiss contained tools which could, if implemented correctly, change lives, destroy lives, make lives.

 

_[“I will be with you forever, Haruka. I will look after you forever, whether you want me to or not. Whether you push me away or not.” “You don’t understand. You couldn’t possibly ever understand what it’s like-” “Then make me understand.”]_

 

“Make me understand you,” Michiru whispered in Haruka’s ear, taking the lobe into her mouth and pressing teeth down gently.

“I…I can’t,” Haruka closed her eyes, a loose tear teasing out from under fragile lashes. Michiru kissed her then, in equal apology and commitment, her arms wrapping around Haruka’s neck, holding her close.

“I’m sorry it has to be like this. But it does. You know it does,” she murmured, marking every other word with a chaste kiss to icy skin. Her lipstick stained blood red on the canvas before her, an artistic recreation of the patterns that desecrated the necks of Haruka’s few victims. She felt an upsurge of jealousy as she realised her own incompetence, the falseness of the blemishes she had left, the gaping separation between herself and her lover that never seemed to fade away no matter how hard they tried.

 

_[“I want to be you.” “I’m not strong enough to put you through that.” “Then let me help you be strong enough.”]_

 

Michiru’s hands were already splattered with the gore of relentless killing. As they moved down Haruka’s back, they were soft, malleable, graceful in their touch, a reminder of Michiru’s tangible humanity, the reality of her existence. Haruka would, and did, constantly reiterate that they should not be together, the artificial luxury of Michiru’s previous life too much of a sacrifice for this – whatever  _this_ truly was, but when it came to it, when Michiru was poised at the door ready to leave, tears streaming down her face, she gripped hard and never let go. Those same hands gripped hard now, pressing fingerprints into Michiru’s arms, desperate for comfort, scrabbling for alleviation of her never-ending sins. Haruka would repeatedly lament her inhumanity, restate her murderous wishes again and again and again, as though she was convincing herself she was still a monster, still the notorious vampire that cursed the pages of so many storybooks. And yet, when she looked at Michiru, she saw nought but virtue and integrity, the greatest and kindest human that had ever lived, a perfect specimen of humanity she would forever be indebted to. Even as Michiru wiped warm blood from her knives, lathered her hands in soapy water to wash away the stains of murder, Haruka watched on in awe, wilfully ignorant to the vacancy of morality that Michiru had so quickly become. Morals couldn’t, after all, come into play in such a cruel world as this, a world which left one so innocent and gentle as Haruka Tenoh to the eternal constricts of continuous brutality, and Michiru had decided long ago that justice and goodness were virtues that could only be enjoyed by a lucky few.

 

_[“Let me stay with you forever, Haruka. Please.”]_

 

“Please,” Michiru locked eyes with Haruka, watching her struggle between honour and love.

 

_[“I’ve never bitten anyone like that before. I’ve never turned anyone, I don’t know what I’m doing, please, Michiru-” “Then let me be the first.”]_

 

“I love you. I don’t want to hurt you,” Haruka said and Michiru was sure if she had a heart it would be breaking.

“You’re not going to hurt me. Being apart from you like this hurts me. Not being with you hurts me. Being human hurts me, Haruka. When you’re something different, being human hurts me.”

Haruka lay her head in her hands, frustrated, but Michiru pulled them away, kissing her palms gently.

“Help me, Haruka. Help me this once so I can help you always.”

“Is this really what you want?” Haruka said slowly, “To be undead? You want to be undead?”

“When I’m apart from you, I’m hardly living,” Michiru whispered, tangling their hands together, rubbing her thumb along the ridge of her knuckles, pressing her lips to Haruka’s softly. Haruka’s breathing slowed and Michiru moved herself so she was sitting upright, guiding Haruka’s mouth to her own neck, murmuring encouragement.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” her words faintly registered in the back of Haruka’s mind as she left kisses upon the warm, beating pulse of Michiru’s throat, as though her lips could possibly save the life still beating there.

“Haruka. Please.”

Michiru’s blood mixed with Haruka’s tears as sharp canines punctured waiting skin, a final release from the unwanted burden of her own humanity.  


End file.
